Nagpur hasn't changed much since I left for Bombay in 1995. Not that I expected, or wanted, anything to change. This winter capital of Maharashtra is quite alright the way it is. In fact, it is Nagpur's reluctance to change, its unhurried pace and complete lack of public order that makes it such a charming city. If I were to pick a symbol that would best describe it, I would choose the ubiquitous cycle-rickshaw. It is slow, almost slothful -- just like the city itself. It has been there for years and has become a part of every Nagpurian's life. And it is very difficult, almost impossible, to regulate it by any system of traffic management. The last I heard, attempts were being made to create special lanes for cycle-rickshaws. That was almost five years ago, but even today cycle-rickshaws decide the speed at which traffic moves here. I landed in Nagpur in the midst of a messy election that nobody wanted. At least, not the people of Nagpur. I got an angry retort from a taxi driver when I asked him about his expectations from the election. He turned out to be a disillusioned Congress worker. Disillusioned not with what happened in Ayodhya or the role played by his party in bringing down the Vajpayee government. He was angry because he never got the job he was promised by his seniors in the party. Nagpuria, the local dialect, is a strange mix of Hindi and Marathi, a sign of the city's proximity to Madhya Pradesh. Galis in this lingo have a stunning intensity to them. When the driver let out a series, all I could do was look out of the window and hope that the car stereo would drown the outburst. The leaders he was referring must have been made of sterner stuff, for he revealed that he had confronted them with the same barrage before he left politics and began driving a taxi. I encountered another angry young man in a different part of the state in a different vehicle a few days later. Ravi Parate was driving me from Satara to a nearby village in his rickshaw, an auto-rickshaw (mind you, we are in western Maharashtra), when I made the cardinal mistake of mentioning politics to him. His anger was directed not at the Congress but the Shiv Sena-Bharatiya Janata Party combine. He said he had voted and even worked for the party after he heard of their promise to provide jobs to 2.7 million unemployed youths in the state. Not only did he never get any reply to his numerous applications made to the employment exchange and the Shiv Udyog Sena office in Mumbai, no leader came ahead to help him when he applied for a loan to buy an auto. He said it was his dream to see the Sena-BJP routed. I told him if his dream does not come true, as it won't in all likelihood, he should blame only one person -- Sharad Pawar. In Satara I had the privilege of rubbing shoulders with royalty. Udayanraje Bhosale and his uncle Abhaysinhraje Bhosale, both direct descendants of the Maratha king Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj, were the candidates (BJP and NCP respectively) for the assembly seat. I fixed appointments with them without much of a hassle. The Jalmandir palace, done all in carved wood, is a treat for the eyes. The credit must also go to the Bhosales for painstakingly maintaining the grandeur of the days gone by. If only they had shown the same love for Shivaji's magnificent forts all across western Maharashtra and Konkan that have been reduced to ruins... Thirtythree-year-old Udayanraje Bhosale came across as a young man in a hurry. He told me that had his grandmother, Sumitraraje Bhosale, entered politics, the political landscape of Maharashtra would have been very different. He spoke of how his uncle had restricted the family to just Satara, robbing it of its rightful place in state politics. As I spoke to him, I felt a strange fear. It was like Udayanraje wanted to turn the clock back to the time when his forefathers ruled most of what constitutes today's Maharashtra and parts of some neighbouring states. It was a yearning for absolute power. And he didn't seem willing to wait. Two days after I met him, Udayanraje was arrested, along with some of his associates, for allegedly killing a corporator of his uncle's party. Pankaj Upadhyaya may have left Nagpur, but Nagpur sure has not left him.
HOME | NEWS | ELECTION 99 | BUSINESS | SPORTS | MOVIES | CHAT | INFOTECH | TRAVEL SINGLES | BOOK SHOP | MUSIC SHOP | HOTEL RESERVATIONS | WORLD CUP 99 EDUCATION | PERSONAL HOMEPAGES | FREE EMAIL | FEEDBACK